Game Changer
by Meilan Firaga
Summary: Set after Glease. Blaine Anderson is having the worst experience of his life with Kurt leaving, but when the hammer falls on opening night, he finds comfort and acceptance from an unexpected source. Eventual Blainofsky, because I want this ship to sail. Rated for language. OCs present, but not paired with Glee cast members.


**Game Changer**

This little plot bunny has taken up residence in the back of my head and absolutely refuses to leave. It is canon for now, though I don't promise that it will stay that way. I like to write between the lines and show the things that happen when the camera isn't rolling on the show. The story begins at the end of Glease.

This is completely un-betaed, so I apologize for any mistakes. At the beginning of each chapter, I'll be including a playlist of the songs that go along with it. Some may only have one song while others will have a TON.

Obviously, I do not own Glee or its characters, since if I did Dave Karofsky would still be on the show. XD

* * *

_**Chapter One: Inside Out**_

* * *

Playlist

"The Sound of Silence" ~ Simon & Garfunkel

"Mad World" ~ Gary Jules

* * *

Grease was over. Opening night had gone spectacularly well if the standing ovation was anything to go by. Marley and Ryder had killed the leads, there couldn't have been a better casting choice for Patty Simcox than Kitty, and no one had thrown up out of nerves. Everything was perfect on the stage, and everyone should have been ready to celebrate. For his part, Blaine Anderson sat outside the back door of the auditorium and just tried to breathe.

"I don't trust you anymore."

The words played on a loop in his head like a broken record. His eyes ached from the tears he was just too exhausted to keep crying. Sam had caught him on his way backstage, but the older blonde had backed off with an understanding nod when he'd snapped out that it had to do with Kurt and he wanted to be left alone. No one had come looking for him after that.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there with his head on his knees, trying to focus on controlling the sobs that wanted to come out and just wouldn't, when he heard the tell-tale sound of approaching footsteps.. He raised his head to tell whichever of his fellow glee club members had found him that he was fine and stopped short at the sight of an unfamiliar young woman. She was a little bit taller than him and definitely a few years older with a curvy build under a blouse and pencil skirt that made her look like she'd stepped off the page of a 1950s pinup calendar. The victory rolls in her auburn hair only added to the illusion. She stopped in front of him, the heels of her shoes clacking against the pavement, and gave him a look so full of understanding that he could have wept.

"I know that look," she said, placing a hand on her hip and cocking her head to one side. The high collar of her blouse shifted and he caught sight of what looked to be the edge of a tattoo on her neck. "That's a patented 'boy just stomped on the heart he's already broken' look." Taking stock of the concrete he was sitting on she folded her legs beneath her and eased herself to the ground.

"How do you know it was a boy?" Ignoring the fact that he'd asked what was likely the stupidest of questions, Blaine hated how small his voice sounded.

The girl snorted in response. "Honey, I am a certified fag hag. You couldn't have gotten that past me even if you were so deep in the closet you were findin' next year's Christmas presents." Her voice had a southern lilt to it the more he heard her talk. She wiped one hand on her skirt and held it out to him. "My name is Myranda Spencer, but you can just call me Myr. Everyone does."

He took her hand. "Blaine Anderson."

"I know," she said, giving his hand a quick shake before releasing it. "Your name was in the program, but I could have guessed from the way you were staring at Kurt during your number." She continued before he could utter a sound of surprise. "My roommate is named Dave Karofsky. Sound familiar?" Stunned, Blaine could only nod. "He dragged me up to Lima tonight to see the show. Thought he was going to have a heart attack when he saw Kurt in the audience. Imagine our surprise when we went to leave the auditorium early and overheard your little encounter."

Blaine hung his heard, Kurt's words echoing through his brain once more. "I cheated," he whispered. He couldn't bring himself to look back up at her now that those words were finally out. He still hadn't told anyone at McKinley why Kurt had left him.

A warm hand settled on his shoulder. "You're only human," Myr assured him, "and, what's worse, you're at the dreaded age of killer fucking hormones." Her tone was all at once both light and reassuring. "New York to Lima is a pretty drastic distance, and it would take phenomenal communication on both sides to make that work. Was that communication there?"

Finally, Blaine looked up at her face. It held the same calm, understanding expression she'd given him when she first walked up. After a long moment, he shook his head.

"I didn't think so. It takes a lot to drive someone to cheat if they're not low on self esteem, and you don't strike me as the type to lack for that." Myr pulled her hand back, tugging at her shirt collar before giving up and unbuttoning the top button. A bit more tattoo peeked through. "Now, the real thing to ponder is whether you confessed or got caught. Confessing exhibits remorse whereas getting caught…" she trailed off, giving him a very pointed look. He opened his mouth to tell her he'd confessed, but didn't even get a word out before he was interrupted.

"Hey, Blaine, I know you're not really in the mood, but—Myr?" Glancing up at the figure now framed by the auditorium door, Blaine found himself looking into the very shocked face of Sam Evans.

"Hey there, Glitter Face," Myr chirped, getting to her feet and dusting herself off. "Why is it that the first time I see you in ages you're still shaking it on stage?"

All at once Blaine watched his friend both blush to the very roots of his hair and gain a very wolfish grin. Sam strode over to Myr and wrapped her in a tight hug, swaying them from side to side. "What are you doing here?" he asked, laughing.

Myr laughed as well, shoving him gently away after returning the hug. "Do you remember me telling you about my friend, Dave, from World of Warcraft?"

Sam nodded, then narrowed his eyes and flicked at the open collar of her shirt. "Is that new ink?"

Rolling her eyes, Myr slapped his hand away. "Yes, it's fairly new ink, ADD. We're talking about my friend, Dave."

"Right," Sam said, shaking his head to focus. "You guys played WoW together, he met you in Wilmington for the ren faire…"

"His last name is Karofsky."

Now, with the way Sam's mouth was opening and closing, Blaine completely understood why Santana compared him to a trout. Myr just kept grinning, reaching up to undo two more buttons on her blouse. She pulled the fabric aside and Blaine could see the whole tattoo clearly. It was a belt wrapped around her neck like a noose. The artist had clearly gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like it was digging into her skin, some of the edges looking red and raw. Along the bottom edge was a line of elegant black script that said 'Ink and scar to remind us we care.'

"I gawked, too." All three of them turned at the sound of a new voice. David Karofsky was now leaning against the doorframe. "If Myr ever tried to be subtle she might have an aneurysm." Blaine gave the older boy a careful once-over, looking for remnants of the depression that had pushed him to attempt suicide. It really wasn't there. There was a haunted, experienced look lurking in the back of his eyes, but nothing worse. Blaine shook his head. The conversation had apparently continued while he'd mused, and he'd missed something.

"…and all that aside, we're going to have a fucking blast one way or another," Myr finished, turning her happy grin down on him. Blaine blinked at her owlishly, trying his best to piece together what she'd been saying and why she was looking at him like she was waiting for an answer.

Dave came to his rescue. "I tune her out, too, man, so don't feel bad. We're going to one of my favorite diners for something to eat and then dragging Sam back to Columbus with us until Sunday. Do you want to come with?"

Jaw working in surprise, Blaine tried to sort through his thoughts. The last time he'd seen Dave had been just after he'd been let out of the hospital, and he'd only met Myr a few moments ago. His immediate reaction to going all the way to Columbus with them for the weekend was an absolute no, but now that he was surrounded by people he found that he didn't want to be alone again, and he was definitely hungry. He scrubbed a hand over his face and hair, too lost in his own thoughts to notice when he knocked some of the gel loose. "I think-I think dinner sounds good, but I'm on the fence about Columbus."

Dave nodded, throwing Myr a look that clearly said 'don't start.' "Reasonable enough. You won't regret the food. Jack's is the best kept secret in Lima." Then, Karofsky did something hadn't expected: he took a few steps forward and stretched out a hand to the former Warbler to help him to his feet. "Besides," he muttered, low enough so that the other two couldn't hear, "you look like you might need the company." Nodding in silent agreement, Blaine placed his hand in the larger one before him and let Dave pull him to his feet.

"Thanks," he said, biting his lower lip. Those tears he'd been so sure he couldn't cry earlier were starting to prick at the backs of his eyelids again. "I thought I wanted to be alone, but..." he trailed off, gaze firmly planted on his feet, so small next to those of the former McKinley jock holding his hand. Still holding his hand. Just as his brain registered that fact, the other boy gave said hand a firm squeeze.

"Hey, don't let it keep you down." Looking up, Blaine found Dave with a sympathetic expression on his face. "You're definitely not the only guy here to have been rejected by Kurt Hummel, remember?" Dave gave him a small smirk, squeezing his hand once more. "Can't have you going down the road I did and thinking a beam in the closet could be your best friend, right?" Despite the morbidity of the joke, Blaine gave a little laugh.

"Are you two just going to stand there until we starve to death!?" At the sound of Myr's voice both of them jumped, snatching their hands away from one another and turning wide-eyed to find that she and Sam were already halfway across the parking lot. Myr gave them a bemused smile and pointed vaguely toward what Blaine could only assume was their car. "Car first, then food, then puppy looks and emotional healing, yes?" Flashing them an even brighter grin, she turned, looped her arm through Sam's and continued along her way.

Blaine scrubbed a hand through his hair once more, sheepish that he'd gotten so lost in his thoughts. Beside him, Dave cleared his throat. "She's a bit of a pill sometimes, but I promise that Myr grows on you. She and her family are kind of all I've got these days." Glancing at Blaine from the corner of his eye, he gave him another half-smile. "Come on, Anderson. As long as you're not some crazy vegan this diner is gonna rock your socks off."


End file.
